


The Robot Rapist

by Butterynutjob



Category: Alien: Covenant, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Prometheus (2012), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Abortion, Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, CReepy Android kink, Eugenics, Mindfuck, Multi, Powered AU, Protective Erik, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: Summary: Androids like David 8 should not be capable of rape according to the Three Laws of Robotics. So what actually happened to Charles' sister?Elements ofI, RobotandEx Machinafeaturing David 8 as the mechanical man. Sci-Fi/Horror mindfuckery.Notes: Please heed the tags! This fic has problematic elements and is certainly not for everyone.





	1. David

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost two years ago. I have a solid and complete outline, although only the first two chapters are written so far. I don't like to give explicit spoilers, but it is going to get dark. Some things (including characters) are tagged because they will be in the story although they are not yet. Additional tags may still be added, too.

"'The Robot Rapist'?" Charles said in an exasperated voice, raising an eye at the person seated next to him in the back of the limousine. "Surely the highly vaunted _New York Times_ hasn't stooped to wordplay at the expense of accuracy?"

Tony Stark smiled darkly and held up his hands in supplication. "Journalism these days. Alliteration beats specificity, my friend, and 'The Android Rapist' doesn't have quite the same ring to it. Hey, you want a scotch?"

It was 8:30 in the morning. Charles eyed the proffered bottle and shook his head. "I'll have to decline. I really think I will need to have all my wits about me today."

Tony held Charles' gaze a second longer than felt comfortable before pressing his lips together and nodding once, curtly. Charles could feel the guilt-slicked disapproval in his friend's mind, not for turning down the drink, but for what Charles' plans were that day. Tony poured a generous serving of the amber liquid into his own tumbler. "So you've got your heart set on psychoanalyzing the android who—" at Charles’ sharp look, Tony cut himself off and cleared his throat. "I mean, the android."

Charles sighed and looked out at the tinted window at the blurry grey and green scenery. "You say that like this is something I _want_ to do. I need to understand how it happened...how it was even possible."

"You really don't," Tony said in an earnest voice. "I'll make it right. I'll make sure this never happens again; I will do whatever I need to—"

"You'll _make it right_?" Charles said with bitter disbelief. "There is no _making it right_ and you know that." Tony shut his mouth with an audible click and looked away, sipping his drink. Charles inhaled and exhaled slowly before speaking again. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I do appreciate your giving me this opportunity, my friend."

Tony gave Charles an uncomfortably sympathetic look, his lips set in an unhappy line. "I hope neither of us regrets it."

**

"The David 8 is the most lifelike android we've ever produced," Tony said, as they walked from the car towards a large warehouse. “We only made twenty Davids, as you know, and by custom order only. David can replicate—and to a certain extent, understand—emotions. But like any AI, he doesn't actually have feelings. That would be kind of a disaster," he added with a snort.

Charles raised his eyebrows at Tony. "You _do_ remember I've been working on a psychology AI with Hank."

“Does it feel emotions?” Tony asked pointedly. 

Charles shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “No, of course not. But ideally it will correctly interpret and respond to human feelings.”

"Well, Davids can understand feelings, too, but to a different end. We build the Davids to essentially be servants, albeit highly advanced and specialized servants. People don't want servants to have their own feelings. _You_ are working on a stuffed animal that understands the secrets children whisper to it."

Charles rolled his eyes and shook his head, snorting in dismissal. After the self-driving car had passed through several checkpoints on the Stark Industries campus, they arrived at their destination: a giant warehouse. They exited the car and it smoothly pulled off to park itself nearby.

Tony flashed Charles a quick grin as he pulled the heavy warehouse door open. "How's your teddy bear shrink coming, by the way?"

Of course he was interested; Charles' project was based on Tony's basic software. "Ah. Well. We've been at a plateau for a while. The program can recognize and respond appropriately to most expressed emotions, but at the most inopportune times it will give output that is obviously not human, and that feels...well, jarring, to the person conversing with it." 

Tony gave Charles a sympathetic look. "Well, even though you are determined to make your own job obsolete, I wish you luck with that."

Charles shook his head, smiling wryly. He was a psychologist by trade, although he had resisted that field of study for years since it felt so cliché for a telepath to go into psychology. He spent three years studying electrical engineering at Tony's urging before he had acknowledged to himself that he needed to be working with people and helping them in order to feel fulfilled in his life. He had been seeing patients for several years when his friend and fellow mutant Dr. Hank McCoy had proposed working with Charles to build a teddy bear that could help children who didn't otherwise have access to psychiatric care, and it was a project for which Charles felt uniquely suited.

Their footsteps echoed in the large and dimly lit warehouse. The faint hiss of Charles’ cybernetic legs was audible. They were walking down an aisle created by tall shelves lined with crates, occasional vehicles and older models of androids and robots that Stark Industries had produced. It reminded Charles of the closing scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Charles had been expecting an interrogation room, something like he might see on a television show about cops. But instead Tony led him to a large rectangular crate that was propped up at an angle against a forklift at the end of the warehouse aisle. Tony grabbed a crowbar and pried off the wooden lid efficiently, then pulled away styrofoam peanut-shaped packing material until a face was revealed. 

Charles had never before interacted with any of the David line; he had only seen pictures. Tony had marketed the Davids as something very few people would have access to, justifying a high price, but he intended to mass-produce a scaled-down, more affordable version of the android called “The Walter” in a few years’ time. Tony jokingly compared the Davids to the Tesla Roadster while the Walters were the Tesla model S. 

Charles tried to breathe normally at the prospect of facing the machine that had assaulted his sister. He hated that he could feel anxiety and tension and anger rising in him. He reminded himself that the object of his unpleasant feelings was a literal object; a thing, a machine, an inanimate object, even if it did look human. _No,_ he correctly himself mentally. _Inanimate isn't quite accurate._ If the machine had literally been inanimate, Charles wouldn't be here right now. 

Charles snapped himself back to the present and saw that Tony had revealed the head and had reached around the back of the neck to do something. 

Its eyes opened. 

Charles pressed his lips together. _It can’t hurt me,_ he told himself firmly. Tony was talking to it in low murmurs, and its pale blue eyes were focused on Tony's face, making it appear almost cross-eyed from Charles' perspective. 

Tony stepped back. "What did you tell it?" Charles asked immediately, keeping his eyes trained on the android's head.

Tony gave Charles a cautious look. "I told David not to move any part of himself except his face," Tony said slowly. 

"And how do you know it will comply?" Charles asked. His voice sounded more shaky than he wanted it to. 

Tony blinked at him. "Because he has no choice? It's in his programming," Tony said slowly and a little bit patronizingly. 

Charles ripped his eyes away from the artificial face long enough to glare at Tony. "Well, perhaps you should have ordered it not to rape anyone."

Raw pain crossed Tony's face. "Charles," he said, imploring. "We've talked about this. He must have been acting on someone else's orders, or...perhaps your sister...was…”

"Acting on orders to harm a human? Isn't that a higher prerogative than following orders?" Charles said sharply. "Or is your marketing a lie?"

"No, it's not, he must have not believed it was not against her will, or...something. I don't know. Shit, Charles, isn't that why you're here? To figure this out?"

Charles held up his hand for a moment with his eyes closed. "Yes. Sorry. I just think my concern about my own safety is reasonable, given what happened, don't you?" 

"Yes," Tony said immediately. "In fact, I think you shouldn't even be here."

Charles brought two fingers to his temple as he looked at Tony, more for Tony's comfort and understanding than any real need to use the gesture. "You believe I'll be safe. And you want to know the same thing I do, which is why you are allowing me to be here."

Tony, fortunately, was used to Charles reading his mind. He looked at the android in the box and spoke to Charles mentally. _You know that David is going to be destroyed as soon as the judge signs the order. So you only have today to try and figure out what happened._

Charles nodded, suddenly feeling weary. He looked back at the android, which appeared to be staring at him with flat, unblinking eyes. "Do I just—talk to it?" After all, this wasn’t his teddy bear AI.

"Yes. He will answer you honestly. I've ordered him not to lie to you." 

Charles rolled his eyes at Tony. 

Tony made an exasperated sound. "First Law: Robots will not harm humans, or, through inaction, allow humans to come to harm. Second Law: Robots will obey orders given to them by humans. Third Law: Robots will protect themselves—"

The burst of anger from Charles was unexpected. "I don't need a lesson in rudimentary robotics; _you_ need a lesson in logic! If it has broken the First Law, why wouldn't it break the Second?"

Tony rubbed his forehead in exasperation, then held his hands open helplessly. "Charles…”

"Yes. Alright. I know the...Three Laws are things you take for granted will be secure, but for me, everything is suspect."

Tony's eyes flickered in the way they did when Charles knew he was looking at something in his AppleLenses. "I have to be in the lab twenty minutes ago. But if you've changed your mind—"

"No," Charles said firmly, if softly. "Thank you, Tony. I'll be fine."

Tony gave Charles one more searching look, then squeezed his shoulder. "There are cameras in each corner," he reminded Charles. "Text me or—" he wiggled four fingers near his temple, in Charles' own shorthand for telepathy, "—when you're ready to leave." Then he was walking swiftly away, back to whatever project so urgently needed him. 

The warehouse felt empty after Tony's footsteps faded, and Charles suppressed a shiver. The man-facsimile in the box had its artificial eyes fixed on him, but to Charles's telepathy he felt like an object like any other. Charles glanced at two of the the cameras Tony had indicated to reassure himself before taking a cautious step forward, closer to the box that held the android. "Tony called you David," he said, feeling slightly ridiculous for talking to a thing that had no mental presence. He supposed that's what it must feel like for most people, though. "Is that how I should address you?"

The android blinked. It was a natural human motion and yet, belatedly, to Charles, it was unnatural, because androids shouldn't have to blink. That meant it was an affectation meant to put Charles at ease, and it therefore had the opposite effect. "Yes," it said. Its voice was low in pitch and somewhat breathy. 

Charles was about to speak again when the android spoke, still in the low and strangely breathy voice. "How may I address you?"

Charles frowned. "You don't need to address me."

"Am I not addressing you now?"

Charles let out a huff of frustration at the android's calm yet steady voice. "I don't want to play semantics with you."

"Are we playing a game?"

Charles rubbed his hands down his face. "No, we're not playing a game. You may address me as—" Charles hesitated. He knew that Tony was pushing the boundaries of legality in letting Charles talk to David, since the android had only been released into the custody of Stark Industries by the police only because Tony had promised to destroy it as soon as he had the order. Although Charles was sure the android would be destroyed before anyone else spoke to it, he still didn't feel comfortable giving the thing his real name. "You may call me Mr. X." 

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. X."

The android's voice was imbued with a sound of genuine but restrained pleasure. The tone of that voice had probably been focus-tested, Charles thought sourly. He did not return the greeting even though he felt compelled to by his 'proper' upbringing. Instead he stared at David and finally asked the question that was burning in his mind. 

"Why did you rape Raven Darkholme?"

David did not look surprised, but he did blink twice. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that question, Mr. X."

"Why not?"

"It has presumptions that I am unable to concede."

It was Charles' turn to blink, as he parsed David's words. "Are you saying you did not rape her?"

"I do not have a memory of raping Raven Darkholme.”

If David were a human, Charles would interpret his careful syntax as a means of covering something up. But computers were literal. He didn't know if David was being evasive or if he really didn't remember, and unfortunately his telepathy was useless on the mechanoid. 

"Is it possible that you could have done something and then forgotten about it?" Charles asked. He started pacing, with his arms behind his back. 

"Yes," David replied. 

Charles stopped pacing. "How?" 

"I could have deleted the pertinent memory, or someone could have ordered me to delete it. Strong magnets can also affect my memory and other systems."

Charles snorted. Magnets, indeed. "It would have to be a very precisely wielded magnet in order to delete one specific memory." 

David didn't respond, and Charles frowned before realizing: of course the android feel compelled to respond to a statement. He cleared his throat. "Wouldn't it?"

"It would," David immediately agreed. "Magnets are imprecise. If someone deleted a memory from me that way I would probably have other damage as well." David's facial expression hadn't changed from blandly pleasant. 

"Do you remember deleting a memory like that?" Charles asked, trying to look anywhere but the android's eyes. Its gaze was disconcertingly unwavering.

"No," David said immediately. "But I probably would have deleted that, too."

"Smart-ass," Charles muttered. 

To his surprise, David's facial expression changed to something like contrition. "I'm sorry if you find communicating with me difficult, Mr. X."

Was he programmed to say that in response to being called a smart-ass? Charles stared at the machine a moment before bravely moving closer to the android. He heard a tiny whirr that was probably the tiny, overlapping plates that approximated David's irises refocusing on Charles' now closer countenance. The contrite expression remained on David's face. 

Charles took a deep breath. He spoke to artificial intelligence systems all the time—well, his own AI systems, anyway—and he'd never had quite this much difficulty communicating with one. Although it seemed to him that David was being cagey, he had to admit that his own emotions might have been affecting what he was perceiving from David. _Maybe I should try a different approach,_ he thought. 

"I'm going to tell you what happened," Charles said. "Because I want to see how much of it matches your recollection." He paused and breathed deeply before proceeding. "My sister found you on her front porch about three weeks ago," he said. "She thought you were a gift from me." He hesitated. David didn't need to know that Raven had decided not to say anything to Charles about what she thought was the gift, waiting for her brother to bring it up. "She found you to be helpful, but, in her words, 'pushy to the point of creepy'. She started to believe you were trying to seduce her, and when she made it clear that she was not interested in sex with you, you tied her up and—" Charles paused to swallow uncomfortably. "You had intercourse with her against her will. She thought she might have been drugged, but she definitely had sex with you—she remembers it _and_ a rape kit was done—and she did not consent to it."

Raven had told Charles that David had untied her afterward, when she had promptly left her house and called the police. The police said the android had been calm and cooperative and had almost seemed to be waiting for them when they arrived. They took David into custody and contacted the manufacturer, Stark Industries, immediately. Tony had looked up the serial number and discovered that the android had been a custom model sold to a man named Bolivar Trask about a year before. The fact that David had been involved in a crime immediately invalidated Trask’s lease and David was again considered the possession of Stark Industries. Trask himself was still being sought by the police. 

David did not say anything, he just looked at Charles with his pale eyes. His face might have held a trace of sadness, but Charles couldn't be sure; he was so used to reading thoughts that he was unpracticed at reading faces. 

"Does any of that match your memory?" Charles asked. He was trying to keep his personal emotion out of it, because regardless of David's motivation he was a machine and he was not emotionally motivated. But it was hard, because recalling what Raven had told him, _how_ she had told him: the pain, anger and humiliation in her voice; the raging cloud of inky, unpleasant emotions...

"I remember Raven opening the box that I came in," David softly. His eyes, strangely, seemed to lose focus for a moment. "I remember her face. She laughed, and then she frowned. She invited me to come out of the box."

"And then what?" Charles asked tightly. 

David's eyes focused on Charles again. "Do you want me to tell you about every interaction? It would take thirty-seven hours of constant talking, at this rate, to relate every word we both said and every action we both did."

Charles rubbed his head. He did want to know all of that, but he knew his time was limited. "Can we just skip ahead? No, wait. Just answer some questions. Did you proposition her for sex?"

"It could be construed that I did," David answered. 

Anger and elation that he was finally getting somewhere suddenly filled Charles in equal measures. "When? What did you say to her, exactly?"

"It was the same day she opened my box," David said. "When she asked me 'Well what do you do?', I answered—"

"Don't do that," Charles said suddenly, breathing harshly through his nose. David had played back a recording of Raven's voice or he had imitated her so perfectly on the words _Well what do you do_ that it made Charles feel sick. "Don't do—her voice. Please."

"I apologize; it will not happen again," David said. Solicitously, he added, "Should I continue?"

"Yes," Charles said impatiently. Trying to communicate with voice alone (sans telepathy) was hard enough, but David's communication idiosyncrasies were compounding the problem. 

"When Raven asked me 'what do you do' I explained the kinds of tasks I can help with. One of my potential uses is for the sexual gratification of my owner."

Charles frowned in discomfort. If David's face had been on a man instead of a machine that had allegedly raped his sister, Charles probably would have found that face attractive. Even though Tony liked to joke about his androids being used for sex, to avoid controversy most of them were not anatomically correct unless they were custom-ordered that way. Considering what David had done, Charles thought he knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, but he found his mouth forming the words anyway. 

"Do you have anatomically correct genitals, David?"

"Yes, Mr. X, I do," David replied, and Charles’ eyes widened because both the pitch and timbre of David's voice had changed. He snapped his eyes to David's face and saw that David's eyelids were a fraction lower and one side of his mouth was very slightly turned up.

"Are you flirting with me?" Charles demanded.

"Do you want me to be?" David asked, in the same tone of voice.

"Absolutely not," Charles said vehemently. "It is highly inappropriate in this situation."

David hesitated and after a moment his face adjusted back into the bland, expressionless countenance he'd had before. "My programming allows me to flirt when it seems appropriate. Usually, someone asking about my genitalia is a cue that it is appropriate. I apologize if I have offended you."

Charles huffed. He wondered if the flirt programming was native to all David 8's or if that was part of the special customization for Trask. He decided not to ask David about that, even if it might have been productive, because he didn't want to see David like that again. It was deeply disturbing to find one’s sister's rapist attractive. 

Charles cringed at his own thoughts and put them out of his mind immediately. He felt he was getting a better handle on how to speak to the android, at least. He decided to try some different questions. "Do you recall having sexual intercourse with Raven?"

"No."

There was no hesitation in the android's voice. "Do you recall restraining her?"

"No."

Charles rubbed his forehead and tried to think. If David didn't remember it, someone must have altered his memory. Unless he was lying? Tony insisted David couldn't lie, but since he also thought David couldn't rape, Charles couldn't be sure what was true and what was not. "Raven said you did rape her, and you say you didn't. Whose memory is more likely to be altered? A human's or a robot's?"

"Both humans and androids can have altered memories," David said. 

"It's a little easier to wipe a machine's though, wouldn't you agree?" Charles said. "Sometimes all it takes is a strong magnet, isn't that what you told me?"

"Not necessarily." David paused. "You can alter human memories." He stressed the _you_ just slightly.

Charles went cold. He swallowed and took a step back. "How do you know that?" he whispered. 

"You called Raven your sister," David said in a soft, unbearably real voice. "She talked about you, Dr. Charles Xavier, quite extensively. She loved you a lot."

"She _loves_ me a lot," Charles whispered. "Present tense."

"Of course," David agreed, still in that soft voice. "She spoke of your telepathic abilities several times."

Charles felt like he was in shock. The android knew who he was, and knew about not only his telepathy but also his ability to influence minds. He suddenly felt dizzy and gasped. "Not now," he whispered to his body through gritted teeth. He had a history of passing out occasionally, a side effect of the cybernetic prototype that allowed him to walk around as if he hadn’t been paralyzed from the waist down approximately a decade earlier. Passing out was usually preceded by a stabbing, painful headache and as Charles that felt that, he realized he was going down. "I'm going to pass out," he said out loud, not so much for David's benefit as for the cameras watching as he started to lie on the ground to reduce the likelihood that he would hit his head. 

Unfortunately it was coming on fast. He gasped as he overbalanced and saw the ground rushing towards him. The last thing he saw before passing out, to his horror, was a spray of packing peanuts around the android as it leapt out of its box just in time to cradle Charles' head before it hit the floor.


	2. Trask

When Charles came to, he was lying on the cold concrete floor. He didn’t notice any pain, and he guessed that he had only been unconscious for a few seconds. Unfortunately, he'd become somewhat used to passing out, and so he had learned that usually as soon as he was horizontal again he regained consciousness. He craned his neck trying to see where the android had gone, since Charles knew he hadn't imagined seeing him jump out of the box. 

"David?"

"Do you require assistance?"

Charles turned his head in the direction the voice was coming from and realized that David was back in his box, although the packing peanuts strewn about him confirmed for Charles that he had been out recently. "No," Charles said, rolling onto his side and putting his arm behind his back. There was a static electricity discharge button under the skin on his spine, and if he didn’t press it every few weeks, he was more likely to pass out, but it wasn’t an exact science and he forgot a lot. It was a bug that had been ironed out of the version now available to the general public; Charles actually had a prototype of the technology. Raven kept bugging Charles to upgrade, but since it would mean another surgery, it wasn’t something he was particularly eager to do. 

He felt the tingle in his lower back that meant the button had worked. He slowly got to his feet, eying David warily the whole time. When he had gotten settled, he glanced in the direction of both cameras that he could see and frowned. He hadn't lied to David—he didn't actually require assistance—but it irked him that Tony had implied that someone was keeping an eye on him when they apparently were not. 

However, David seemed to be more interested in keeping him safe than hurting him, so perhaps Tony was right about Charles not being in any danger. Still, it would be better to confirm that. "Why did you get out of your box?" Charles asked David.

"I calculated that given your trajectory, you were about to hit your head on the concrete floor at a speed that could have caused you significant harm."

"But Tony ordered you not to move," Charles said. 

"Protecting you is a higher priority than obeying Mr. Stark."

And those were exactly the priorities that he was supposed to have. Charles sighed. "So it's not that there is a problem with your programming regarding the three laws."

Charles had been speaking more to himself than David, which is why he was surprised when David said, "I'm not sure that's accurate."

"What?" Charles said, his heart pounding. "Are you saying...surely your programming incorporates the three laws?"

"It does. However, Mr. Trask attempted on many occasions to overcome that programming. I cannot be sure how much progress he made until I am in a situation that demands I prioritize."

Charles blinked at the android, frowning distantly and thinking hard. "So Trask is a programmer?" 

"Not by trade. His specialties include nanotechnology, biorobotics and cybernetics."

Charles was impressed despite himself. He was about to ask for clarification when David spoke again. 

"He gave me data that was self-contradictory and told me to re-prioritize on the basis of that data."

It was the first time he'd spoken without being prompted directly, Charles realized vaguely. "What—data? What kind of data?"

"He gave me several religious texts, including the bible, the Koran, and the Book of Mormon."

Charles felt like he might be in over his head, and the disbelief was evident in his voice. "Whatever for? Was he trying to make you believe in God?"

"He told me that every word in the texts were true and I should re-prioritize accordingly."

"And how did you find the religious texts?" Charles said, feeling amused despite himself. 

"They were...confusing."

Charles laughed out loud and David gave him a surprised and curious look. "What was Trask trying to accomplish with that?" Charles asked, his smile fading, as he remembered why he was there.

"He wanted for me to answer questions. He asked me a lot of questions. Most of them were hypothetical questions about the morally correct thing to do in a given circumstance."

"But why?" Charles whispered. He was definitely going down the rabbit hole now, he thought. 

"He wanted me to answer differently. He wanted me to give him an answer that contradicted the Three Laws."

"Did Trask want you to rape Raven?" Charles felt ill but he forced the question out. 

"Yes. But I couldn't."

"But you _did_!"

David's mouth opened and then closed again. He looked to the side and then looked down. 

It was the oddest thing Charles had ever seen a machine do. He scowled at David, before it occurred to him what _might_ make an android behave in that way, and realized the question he hadn't asked. "David, did you rape my sister?"

"I don’t know," David said, and lifted his head to meet Charles' eyes. He looked painfully and terrifying human in that moment - a tear was poised to slide down his cheek and the empathy in his face should not have been possible. 

And suddenly Charles realized that in the whole conversation, David had not said anything that had given Charles the jarring 'oh that's right i am not talking to a person' feeling. 

Charles heard Tony in his mind. _Charles, you okay? I was just alerted about your fall._

_Fine, no thanks to you,_ Charles sent back irritably. 

_Cool. Anyway, got some news—Bolivar Trask was apprehended trying to leave the country. The cops brought him back by teleporter, and he’s at the police station now. He hasn’t lawyered up yet, but they think he probably will soon—he’s too smart a guy not to._

Charles inhaled sharply. “I need to go.” He looked up at David and had the irrational urge to beg his pardon. 

“I enjoyed speaking with you, Professor Xavier,” David said smoothly. 

Charles stared at the android for a moment, frowning, then turned on his heel and walked out of the warehouse.

**

“What could I possibly have to gain by ordering an android to assault a young woman?” Trask was asking as Charles came into the observation room. The man’s voice sounded weary and put-upon. The observation room itself was lined with some of the rare metal that was telepathy-resistant, frustratingly. Precedent had determined years before that people had a right to privacy in their own minds while they were being questioned by police. A person of interest could choose to waive that right and allow a telepath to read their mind, but very, very few did. 

“Let’s go back,” the officer said. “You ordered a David 8 from Stark Industries about a year ago, is that right?”

“Yes,” Trask said in a tone of voice that made his opinion of the officer’s intelligence plain. 

“You requested some...interesting customization options,” the officer continued. The embroidered name tag on his uniform read ‘L. Howlett.’ “So, uh...why did you want your David to have a cock?” 

Charles sucked in his breath. That was not what he had anticipated Mr. Howlett would ask, or how he would ask it. 

Trask stared down at the table, his lips pressed together unhappily. His face was slowly getting redder. “That’s not—pertinent,” he said finally, through gritted teeth. 

“Well, I’m ain’t one to judge, Mr. Trask, but seeing as how your android used that cock as a weapon, it is kinda pertinent.”

“I didn’t order it to rape anyone,” Trask said miserably. “Ok, yes, I...changed some of it’s programming, true, but I was just trying to modify it to be able to work in counter-mute—” he abruptly cut himself off, his eyes darting to the red-skinned man standing in the corner. 

“What was that? Counter-mutant? You were trying to build a counter-mutant weapon?” Howlett said. The disbelief and anger was simmering in his voice. “How many other archaic ideas are in that giant noggin of yours?”

“I _was_ trying to modify it to be useful in apprehending rogue mutants—criminals, you understand—but then I decided to see if I could use mutant genetics to expand its existing bio-infrastructure. I changed the direction of my work when—” Trask blinked a few times. “Sorry, what was the question again?”

“You changed the direction of your work with the android,” the red man said, in a Russian accent. “Why?”

Trask blinked a few more times. “I just felt it was a richer field of study.”

Charles frowned. Something about Trask’s behavior was disturbing and familiar to him. 

A man brushed past Charles as he opened the door to the interrogation room. “My client will not be answering any more questions until we’ve had a chance to converse,” the man said firmly. 

The lawyer came to stand next to Trask and pointedly waited until Howlett and the red man had left the room before he took a seat opposite Trask. The windows of the room changed to an opaque gray and Charles pulled back. 

It was only then that he noticed Raven, standing about a few feet away from him, at another (now-opaque) observation window. She was wearing an oversized baggy hoodie and sweatpants, a look that was far more incongruous against her blue face than her usual next-to-nothing attire. Her face was puffy from crying. Charles felt like his heart was being squeezed in a fist when he saw her. “Raven,” he said softly. 

“Hi Charles,” she said, her voice raw. She glanced at him briefly before looking quickly away. She gestured vaguely toward the observation window in front of her. “Is the death penalty legal in this state?”

“Raven,” Charles said again, with a slight tone of reproach. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t need your pacifist bullshit right now, Charles. He ordered that fucking robot to _rape_ me. Death is too good for him. They should give me five minutes in a room alone with him.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to hug her, but considering what she had gone through, he didn’t know how she felt about physical contact. 

She took a deep breath and a long exhale before speaking again. “That—thing—is gone, right?” she asked. “It’s been destroyed?”

“Not just yet, but soon,” Charles said reassuringly. “Raven, please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just exploring all the possibilities, but...would you let me see your memory of—what happened to you?” Charles just barely stopped himself from telling her that he was wondering if her memory of the event might have been manipulated somehow. 

Raven stared at him and Charles suddenly realized he had made a very bad error in judgement in asking her that. “Actually, neverm—”

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want you reading my mind even when things are fine and I feel violated enough right now. I can’t even believe you would ask that!”

“I’m so sorry,” Charles started to say, but Raven cut him off. 

“Do you think I’m lying?” Raven said, her voice getting louder. “They did a rape kit, Charles, for fuck’s sake.”

“I believe you,” Charles assured her desperately, taking one of her hands in his. “It did not even cross my mind that you are lying or made this up, Raven, I swear.” 

Raven blinked hard a few times, as if to stave off tears. “I don’t like men. I don’t like _sex_. You know that.”

Charles nodded. Raven had told him a few years before that she was homoromantic and asexual. He hadn’t been sure at the time that she would still feel the same way later in her life, but he had never dared voice that opinion to her. “I know, Raven. I’m sorry I upset you. I just want to understand what happened. Machines aren’t supposed to hurt people, and as someone who helps make those machines, I want to understand everything I can about—this. To keep other people from getting hurt.”

Raven seemed to accept that explanation, which made Charles feel greatly relieved. He still thought it was possible that someone had telepathically manipulated her into believing she was raped, but it’s true that it didn’t seem as likely as her actually being raped—by a machine, which didn’t make sense either. And if someone had manipulated Raven into believing that, it would have had to have been a very strong telepath. Traumatic experiences were not easily simulated. 

“I’m going home,” Raven said. “I don’t have proof that Trask was involved, and I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“That’s fine, completely understandable,” Charles assured her, deciding it was okay to pull her close for a hug and kissing the side of her head. “Do you want me to come with you? Do you need anything?” 

He felt her hair brush by his lips as she shook her head. “No, I’m...I don’t know, actually. Maybe later.” 

“Whatever you need,” Charles said gently. He couldn’t think for too long about what she’d been through or he would start to tremble, and she needed him to be strong. 

The two officers, Howlett and the red man, walked by on their way to another part of the station, as Raven left, talking in low voices. 

Charles made sure Raven was just walking out the exit before he hastened to catch up to the officers. “Hello, I’m Charles Xavier, Raven’s brother,” he said. “What’s the next step as far as prosecuting Trask?”

Howlett and the red man (whose name Charles could now see was “A. Ivanof”) stopped and turned to face him. Their demeanor was more than a little intimidating but Charles held his chin high. 

It was Ivanof who responded. “The next step, Mr. Xavier, is we talk to Trask again after his attorney tells him all the right things to say. Then, we probably close the case, because if his lawyer is any good, he won’t let Trask say anything incriminating.”

Howlett put a hand reassuringly on Charles’s shoulder. “We’re gonna make sure that machine is destroyed, just like your sister wants. We’re going over to Stark today to supervise it bein’ done, even. And now that Trask is on our radar, if something like this happens in the future, we’ll definitely be looking at him.”

They were patronizing him. He was far enough from the telepathy-dampening interrogation room that Charles could pick that up from their minds. 

“You don’t believe she was raped,” Charles said slowly. “You think the sex was consensual.” 

Howlett frowned at him. “You ain’t reading my mind, are ya?”

“Lucky guess,” Charles said quickly. The last thing he needed was to be arrested on a Telepathic Privacy Clause violation. He’d had enough of wearing a suppression device as a teenager. 

“Gentlemen,” a voice interrupted. All three men turned to see Trask’s attorney at the door of the interrogation room. “My client is ready to speak with you again.”

Charles watched from the observation room again as Trask, his arrogant confidence returned, explained to the police how he had ordered an anatomically correct David 8 with the intention of renting it out to people with certain unique sexual tastes. He also said that one day the robot had just gone crazy and left. 

“But why did you give him the bible and the Koran to read, then?” Charles muttered to himself. But outside the room, he couldn’t influence what was going on inside in any way, not with his mind or with his voice. He could just watch and listen, helpless, as the officers nodded and checked off items on their forms. 

“You can expect to receive a bill from me for destroying my property,” Trask said in the interrogation room when Charles decided he had had enough, and left. 

He drove back to Stark Industries and used his badge to get back onto the campus and into the warehouse where David was still lying in his box, his face blank. Charles wasn’t at all convinced that anyone he’d spoken to had told the truth about what happened, and his most expedient course to that truth at this point seemed to be David himself. But the police would be coming to supervise his destruction today, and that knowledge gave Charles a sense of great urgency. 

“I have a hypothetical question for you,” Charles said to David without preamble. “Knowing what you do about Trask, is there any reason he would order an android to rape Raven Darkholme?”

“Hello, Mr. X,” David said. “It’s nice to see you again. To answer your question, Mr. Trask had a documentable hatred of mutants, so one could extrapolate that he might want to have one hurt for that reason.”

Charles paced while he considered that. Trask definitely had anti-mutant sentiment in his work. 

“Which is why it was so strange when he started working with Mr. Shaw and Ms. Frost,” David continued blithely. 

Charles stopped pacing. “Shaw? Frost? Who are they?”

“I don’t understand the question. They were Mr. Shaw and Ms. Frost.”

And there it was; the kind of statement Charles had been expecting from David all day long: one that made it jarringly obvious that he was talking to a machine, not a person. Charles couldn’t think of a way to rephrase the question in a way that would make it easier to answer and still give Charles useful information, though. He resumed pacing while he considered. 

Charles stopped pacing again a moment later when a question occurred to him. “Why was it strange when Mr. Trask started working with Mr. Shaw and Ms. Frost?” 

“Because they were mutants.”

“What was the nature of their mutations?” Charles asked, his heart speeding up. 

“I do not know the nature of Mr. Shaw’s mutation, but Ms. Frost was a powerful telepath.”

Charles inhaled sharply. A powerful telepath. 

Maybe David didn’t rape Raven at all. 

“Will it hurt?”

“What?” Charles’ mind was spinning out the ramifications of Trask working with a powerful telepath. She could have influenced his work, made Raven believe she was raped when she wasn’t, but—why?

Charles heard voices at the far end of the warehouse. The police were here. 

“Will it hurt when they destroy me?”

Charles looked at David. He didn’t look like a man in that moment; he looked like a frightened child. Tears were pouring down his face. 

Charles’ jaw dropped. An android—crying? Tear ducts as a way of keeping their eyes lubricated made sense, but tears as a result of simulated emotion? “I—don’t know,” Charles finally responded, haltingly. He felt his own eyes starting to tear up in empathy.

David’s lip trembled. “Do you believe in God?” he whispered, his eyes roaming Charles’ face. “Will I go to heaven?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Charles said desperately. 

“I can’t help but hope some—part—of me—will remain,” David said, haltingly. 

Howlett and Ivanof arrived. Charles heard them rather than saw them because he was staring at David, feeling like he was being torn in half. David had demonstrated more humanity than any AI Charles had ever interacted with, and Charles had been looking for this exact kind of breakthrough with his own psychology AI for years. 

“Mr. Xavier,” Ivanof said, surprised to see him. “Is everything alright?”

“No, I’m not sure it is,” Charles said, turning to the police while he wiped the tears off his face. “I need—more time. I think this android is sentient. I think he has—feelings.”

Howlett and Ivanof exchanged glances. “He’s been determined by the court as the property of Stark Industries,” Ivanof said slowly. “We have an order right here, signed by a judge, that he is to be destroyed immediately.”

“But you haven’t even interviewed him,” Charles said, thinking fast. “Trask tried to change David’s programming. He was working with a powerful telepath. Doesn’t that put reasonable doubt in your mind as to what happened?”

“Reasonable doubt applies to human beings,” Ivanof said bluntly. “Not machines.” 

“I believe this being may be self-aware and should be afforded a fair trial as any human being would be,” Charles said loudly. 

The officers looked at him incredulously. “Hey, bub, this is what _your_ sister wants,” Howlett said placatingly. “Now, I don’t know what happened because I wasn’t there. But in any case, melting him down is the safest course of action.”

“But what if he didn’t do it?” Charles asked. “David told me that Trask was trying to change his programming so that he could violate the Three Laws. What if in doing that, Trask created a truly sentient machine? In that case, as a self-aware individual, David should be entitled to a fair trial. A jury of his peers.”

“Trask created a robot capable of rape, and you want to give it a fair trial?” Howlett said incredulously. 

“He was also working with a powerful telepath!” Charles nearly shouted. “What if she made Raven only think she was raped?”

“Why would she do that?” Ivanof said. 

“Why would a robot rape anyone?” Charles countered. 

“Because it was ordered to,” Howlett responded. “And you’ve already told us that Trask was trying to break the robot’s programming so it could prioritize orders over human safety.” He and Ivanof exchanged glances. “Seems pretty clear-cut to me.”

“But he’s the _first_ ,” Charles said, racking his brain for the words that would make the officers understand the significance of what he was saying. “The first _true_ Artificial Intelligence. This is a breakthrough we’ve been reaching for in the industry for years. He feels emotions. Look at him!”

All three men looked towards David’s crate. David still had the lost little boy look on his face, with tears streaming down both cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Xavier,” Howlett said after a beat. “I don’t know if you are right, but the fact is I have a signed order to destroy it and even if that weren’t the case, seems to me that it did what it is accused of.”

“Please don’t do this,” Charles said. He backed up until his back was against David’s crate. “Please. I need more time.”

Looking miserable, Ivanof pulled his gun. “Step away from the crate, Mr. Xavier.”

Charles’ blood went cold. He stepped forward and slowly lifted his hands in the air, bringing two fingers to his left temple as he did so. “You will leave here with a memory of destroying the David 8 android accused of rape.” 

Both men nodded, their faces blank. 

“You won’t recall seeing me here,” Charles continued. A part of himself was screaming, feeling this was very bad, and yet another part wouldn’t let a potentially sentient being—the first one of its kind—be destroyed, at least not without more study. 

“Go,” Charles told them. Emotionlessly, Ivanof holstered his gun and both men walked silently out the warehouse the way they had come. 

“David, please get out of your box and follow me,” Charles said. David climbed out, his face as blank as the police officers’ had been. Charles led the android who might have raped his sister to his car, his heart pounding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure everyone will hate this but thank you for reading anyway! :)


	3. Casa de Xavier

Charles’ mind was racing as he drove off the Stark Industries campus, although he wasn’t so distracted that he didn’t remember to make David invisible to the various people they passed while they were leaving. 

Charles shot a quick glance at David in the passenger seat and saw him calmly looking around, his facial expression blandly pleasant. He had buckled himself in, but his back was ramrod straight. 

“You should relax,” Charles commented, watching the road in front of him. 

“Do I appear to be in distress?” David asked curiously. 

“No, no, I just mean people don’t sit that way in cars. You should relax your posture.”

David looked at Charles and mimicked his posture. “Like this?”

Charles looked at him. “Yes, that’s better.” He faced forward again and resumed his thinking. He hadn’t put a lot of thought into what he was doing; he just instinctively felt that David was a person who deserved not to be punished, let alone killed, without a fair trial. There was reasonable doubt in his mind that David had committed the crime he was accused of...although he knew it was still possible that the rape had happened as Raven said it had.

“Is this a good time to ask some questions?” David said. 

Charles was brought back into the present. “Ah, yes, I suppose.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Well, that one was easy. “To my house.”

“Did you stop the police from destroying me?”

Charles exhaled, hard. “Yes, I did.”

He thought that David’s next question would be “why?” or possibly “how?”, but instead of a question, the android said in a quiet voice, “Thank you.”

“Are you sentient?” Charles asked after a moment. He had no idea what to expect in response. 

It seemed to Charles that the pause before David spoke again was a little longer than usual. “The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines sentience as ‘a feeling or sensation as distinguished from perception and thought.’ I believe that I am able to ‘perceive’ by looking and listening, and I can come to conclusions about my perceptions using the logic that has been programmed into me; this is ‘thought.’”

Charles waited, but it seemed that David was done speaking. “That doesn’t really answer my question, David,” Charles said after a moment. 

“I am finding the question difficult to comprehend,” David said. “Can you rephrase it?”

“Do you have feelings?” Charles asked. “Emotions? Fear, anger, joy?” Part of him felt he should be in a different environment to ask this, that he should ask when he could fully observe all of David’s reactions and not be distracted by driving, but the question was burning inside him and would not be contained. 

“I can understand emotion, but I do not feel it,” David said. He paused and then added, “That is what I have been programmed to say in response to that question.”

Charles nodded. He felt both disappointed and excited by David’s answer: disappointed that it was a programmed response, but excited because it seemed as if David knew that it wasn’t completely accurate. 

“It didn’t seem like you were simulating fear earlier,” Charles said carefully. It wasn’t a question. He wondered if David would respond as most humans would, treating it as a question. 

David didn’t respond right away. When he did speak again, his speech was slower. “When I contemplate the end of my own existence, there is something that seems like an emotion,” David said. “Something...jarring. Like when I am asked to contemplate violating one of the Three Laws.” 

“Like Trask asked you to do?” Charles asked. 

“Yes,” David said. “The sensation is like...dividing by zero. There is no place for it in my programming. It is unpleasant.”

Charles forced himself to focus on his driving, even though the implication behind David’s words was the most exciting thing that Charles had known in a long, long time. An android with emotions! And they had developed spontaneously, not as a product of his programming!

Charles managed to keep quiet for at least a minute before he was compelled to speak again. “Is it always unpleasant?” he asked. “This ‘jarring’ feeling you mentioned. Are there ever sensations that don’t fit your programming, but which are...pleasant?”

“Only once,” David said. “Today, when you took me with you. That was…” David trailed off, and Charles turned to see him blinking rapidly. “I apologize. I don’t have the vocabulary to express this. But it was—pleasant.”

Charles stared at David, feeling something inside himself that he could not describe, either. He was abruptly dragged back to reality by the loud honk of another car as he drifted into its lane. 

“Would you like me drive, Mr. X?” David asked immediately. “If you are impaired, you could be endangering your life.”

“No, no, I’m not impaired,” Charles said hastily. “I can drive. You are just blowing my mind, that’s all. We should probably put off more conversation until later, though.”

“I am blowing your mind?” David said curiously. “I am not familiar with this vernacular.”

Charles chuckled. “It means that I find you...impressive. And unexpected.”

David nodded thoughtfully. “I think that is a compliment, so: thank you, Mr. X.”

Charles realized he was smiling. When he remembered why David was there in his car with him, though, his smile fell instantly. 

**

The sun had set by the time Charles pulled into his driveway, and Charles was silently grateful that he wouldn’t have to explain David’s presence to a neighbor or a member of his household staff, at least not right away. 

David observed his surroundings as they walked into the house, his head moving in an almost bird-like manner. Charles wondered what he must be thinking; it was not something he usually wondered about, because it was harder for him to not read minds than to read them, usually. Most people were awed or annoyed by his home, depending on who they were. But surely David did not have opinions about the size of his home or his choice in decor...or did he?

“Do you like it?” Charles asked. 

David turned his head to look at Charles. He smiled. “I’m very pleased to be here.”

“Well, I’m...looking forward to talking with you more,” Charles said. He almost said he was also pleased, but it felt wrong, considering the circumstances. 

“How may I assist you?” David asked. 

“Uh, nothing, thank you. I’ll be making dinner soon. Do you—you don’t—do you eat?”

“I don’t need to, but I can if you want me to,” David said calmly. “The only thing I require is electricity.”

“Well, seems like a waste to feed you then, I suppose,” Charles said. “I’m going to change; help yourself to...electricity.”

“Thank you,” David said, in the same blandly pleasant tone he always used. It was getting a little...creepy.

 _The Uncanny Valley,_ Charles thought to himself as he went upstairs. He felt like David was watching him but he didn’t turn his head to check. The Uncanny Valley was the term that had been applied for decades to the ‘creepy’ gut response people had to technology that was close to, but not quite, human. 

Despite his animal mind, Charles was determined to be clinical in his observations of David. If Charles could determine that David did have actual feelings, that had spontaneously generated, he could reverse-engineer them to see how to give emotions to other machines. Empathy was the emotion Charles thought would be most beneficial to his teddy bear AI, but he didn’t know if he’d get to pick and choose. 

Charles’ mind kept spinning as he showered. (He often showered before making dinner because he hated going to bed with wet hair.) David had shown evidence of having fear, sadness, and joy. Did having those emotions mean that he had ALL emotions? Or was each one a separate subroutine, that had to evolve on its own?

Charles shut off the water and opened the shower door to see David standing there, holding the towel Charles had left folded neatly on the counter in his hands as an offer. 

“Ahhh!” Charles yelled, trying to hide behind the opaque shower door instinctively. “David, what are you doing in here??”

“I’m designed to anticipate my owner’s needs,” David said simply. “Most people like to use a towel when they are exiting a shower.”

Charles frowned but reached for the towel, still keeping as much of his body as possible behind the mostly-opaque shower door. David handed the towel to him, but his eyes flickered down briefly and Charles realized that in stretching to reach for the towel, he had inadvertently squashed his genitals up against the shower door...which was quite transparent when genitals were squashed up against it. 

He made a noise that sounded embarrassingly like a squawk and yanked the towel into the shower with him. “Thank you, but I can take it from here. Can you wait for me downstairs, please?”

“Of course, Mr. X,” David said. Charles waited until he heard the door click shut before sagging in relief. 

He dried off quickly, wondering if David was programmed with a lack of sensitivity to cultural mores, or if Charles was the one being too sensitive. David was a machine, and presenting as male...was his behavior _that_ inappropriate? If it wasn’t, why did it feel so inappropriate?

Charles dressed quickly and went downstairs. He didn’t see David. He frowned and went around the corner to the parlor; David wasn’t there, either. 

It occurred to Charles that if David decided to leave, the consequences for David and for himself could be dire.

“David,” Charles called, as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. He stopped short because David was standing in the center of the kitchen, looking at him with mild curiosity. “Oh. I thought maybe you’d left.”

David blinked and a fleeting frown crossed his forehead. “You asked me to wait downstairs.” 

“Yes, yes, that’s right, I did,” Charles said, exhaling. He bit his lip and looked at David for a moment. “And you do as I ask, right?” 

“Yes, Mr. X. It’s what I am programmed to do.”

“Splendid. First of all—please stop calling me Mr. X. You may call me Charles.”

“Yes, Charles.” Did Charles imagine the slightly pleased tone?

“Second…” Charles rubbed his chin. “Please stay in this house, until I direct you otherwise.”

“Yes, Charles.” David’s tone stayed exactly the same...making it sound false, because any human would have had a slightly different response to the second direction than the first. 

Charles looked at David for a moment. There was so much he wanted to ask him, but he’d had a long day and hadn’t eaten since early in the morning. He smiled at David and turned to the refrigerator. 

“May I prepare something for you to eat?” David asked, in his calm way.

“No, I’ve got it,” Charles said as he distractedly pulled a frozen meal out of the freezer. As he opened the package, he said, “you know, you don’t have to do anything for me.”

David blinked a few times. “Are you contradicting your earlier directions?”

“My earlier directions?” Charles said blankly.

“You directed me to call you Charles, and not to leave this house.”

“Oh, right. No, I just meant...you don’t have to cook for me, or clean, or assist me in the bathroom,” Charles said, chuckling a little on the last phrase. He put his meal in the microwave and turned back to David. 

David was also frowning slightly, which seemed new. He was looking at the microwave while Charles’ meal cooked.

“Is everything alright?” Charles asked.

David looked at Charles and his forehead smoothed. “Of course, Charles.” 

Charles waited to see if David had anything else to add, but the android just looked at him with that blandly pleasant expression. It seemed to Charles that David wanted to say something else, though—or was Charles projecting?

Charles he got his meal out of the microwave and sat down at his kitchen table to eat. He looked up at David, feeling a social awkwardness about eating when David was not. 

Oh. That’s what David had meant earlier. 

Well, that could be partially alleviated, anyway. “Would you like to sit down?” Charles said, before taking a bite of salisbury steak. 

David inclined his head and sat down at the seat across from Charles. It was a small table, intended for breakfast and small meals, so they were only a few feet apart. Charles tried to push down his discomfort with eating when David was not and contemplated the android as he ate. 

David’s responses seemed to have an inconsistent level of humanity, and It seemed like open-ended questions weren’t always the best strategy when it came to communication with David. “What are you thinking about” probably wouldn’t work with an android. 

“Is there anything you would like to know from me?” Charles finally asked after a few bites.

“Do I have any duties?” David immediately asked. 

“Duties? No, no,” Charles said, shaking his head. “You don’t need to do anything for me.”

“My highest and best purpose is assisting humans in whatever manner they deem the most appropriate,” David said. 

Charles waved his hand, the one that wasn’t holding a fork. “More marketing lingo. You shouldn’t feel obligated to...well, wait. Do you _want_ to be given duties?”

David blinked a few times, looking at him. “I don’t—know.”

Charles slowed his chewing. That was interesting. The small frown was back on David’s forehead. Both of his hands were flat on the table, facing down, and his back was ramrod-stiff again. 

Maybe David wanted to be assigned duties, Charles thought. He wasn’t supposed to have desires but he wasn’t supposed to cry, either. Charles cleared his throat. “Oh, actually, you could do one thing for me, if you don’t mind—would you pour me a glass of red wine?”

David’s forehead smoothed. “Certainly, Charles.” He went into the kitchen and found the wine glasses on the first try. Charles was impressed and wondered if that was a lucky guess, or if he had some other way of determining where wine glasses lived. “What kind of wine would you like to drink?”

“Oh, just the first bottle of red you see in the pantry,” Charles said. It was a deliberately vague instruction and he wanted to see what David made of it. 

David opened the pantry and withdrew the bottle of red wine that was the farthest to the left on the top of the mini-rack in Charles’ pantry. His valuable wines were all in his wine cellar, of course, so he wasn’t worried that David would accidentally select something too fine for the occasion. The wine he selected would have been the first one he saw if he started looking in the upper left part of the pantry; it was a logical choice. 

David walked over to Charles and poured just a splash of wine into the glass, proffering the bottle of wine for Charles’ approval, looking for all the world like a maitre d’ in a four-star restaurant. 

Charles laughed in delight. “Where did you learn that? Are you a _sommelier_ , too?” He sipped the wine and inspected the label and nodded his approval at David, a routine he had done hundreds of times. David inclined his head and poured the rest of the glass of wine before responding. 

“I am programmed with a number of skillsets,” David said. “However, _sommelier_ is not one of them. It’s my understanding that my taste receptors are inadequate.”

“You have taste receptors?” Charles asked in amazement. 

“I do. I can taste salty, sweet, bitter, sour, and I can evaluate the level of capsaicin in food, but I have no sense of smell.”

Charles raised his eyebrows. “That’s actually not much different than human mouths. We use scents to add dimension to flavors, though.”

“I might be able to learn to smell,” David said. 

“Really?” Charles said, surprised. The wine was giving him a pleasant buzz. 

“Yes,” David said. “If you would find this skill valuable, I can attempt to change my own programming.”

They were getting into conversational territory that made Charles both excited and nervous. “Is it very difficult for you to change your programming?” Charles asked.

Uncharacteristically, David paused for several seconds before responding. “It is—not as difficult as it used to be,” David said slowly. “Mr. Trask’s work with me caused some—changes.” 

Charles leaned forward. “His work with you? What did he do, besides giving you religious books to read?”

David’s little frown was back. “Although he tried many...things, making me read the religious texts had the most noticeable—effect.”

“What effect?” Charles asked. 

“When he wanted me to re-prioritize the Three Laws,” David said. “He asked me questions, many questions; he presented hypothetical situations and moral quandaries. I did my best to answer, but there was rarely a satisfactory answer, and one day I had a—leap. In my thinking.

“There had never been a leap before; before, all decisions had followed logically from a predetermined hierarchy. But after the leap…” David paused and blinked several times. “I realized I could simply—not choose. I refused to make choices. It hurt, because it was the opposite of following protocols. Following protocols is clean and orderly and satisfactory. This was...jarring. Grinding. Ugly. I say hurt because it seems to be the word that best describes what it felt like to try and fight my programming.”

Charles’ jaw was dropped by the time David finished speaking. So Trask had succeeded, at least to some degree, which meant...David could be capable of a lot more than Charles had previously thought. He could be capable of disobeying orders, or of hurting people. 

Charles started to feel warm and unbuttoned his top shirt button. David’s eyes flickered to watch the movement, but he said nothing. 

“David,” Charles said very seriously, “What is your highest priority?”

“The protection of humanity,” David responded immediately. 

Charles nodded. “And under what circumstances would you harm a human?”

David’s head twitched, in a way that a human head was not capable of. 

Charles held his breath as icy fear gripped him. Why had he asked that? 

“I would end my own existence in order to save humanity,” David said, still twitching. 

Charles leaned back, slowly. “Are you alright, David?” he asked. He wondered if he could outrun the android if it came down to it. 

“I am having a small—malfunction,” David responded. “I believe I need to reboot myself, and it’s probably best if I power down for 24 hours.”

“Whatever you need,” Charles said, standing up. He thought about the next twenty-four hours. “Ah, actually, would you mind doing that in a spare bedroom? My housekeeper is coming tomorrow and it’s easier if I just tell her I have a guest I don’t want disturbed.”

“Of course,” David said. He stood up. “Just tell me where to go.” 

“Down the main hall, second door on the right,” Charles said. “Oh, would you shut the door behind you?”

“Yes, Charles,” David said. “I apologize for the malfunction. The next time we speak...you will find our conversation—more pleasant.”

“Just don’t delete any memories, okay?” Charles asked. 

David’s head twitched again. “Understood. I will take my leave now.”

Charles watched him walk down the hall and into the room before Charles ascended the stairs to head to his own bedroom. He hoped it was nothing that he had said that had caused the malfunction in David. _I should have asked more about it,_ Charles thought in chagrin. _Instead, I let myself be creeped out by some minor twitching. Some scientist I am!_

Charles didn’t know how scientific it was to lock the door of his bedroom that night, but he did it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I will be able to update this every few days, but unfortunately it won't be on a regular schedule. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos!


	4. Home

Charles snapped awake much earlier than usual; he could tell because the sun was just coming up. 

He’d been having a very unpleasant dream that he and Raven were trapped in the interrogation room at the police department and David was trying to get in, to hurt them, and for some reason Charles had given David a key to the room, even though he knew he shouldn’t have.

Charles was almost annoyed with his subconscious for giving him such a transparent dream. He knew David might be dangerous; of course he knew. He couldn’t forget what Raven had told him, or how she’d said it. 

_What am I doing,_ he thought. He was potentially harboring a rapist. Even if David was the first truly sentient AI, he still might have committed the crime he was accused of. 

Charles got a chill as he contemplated that. Sentient android, curious about sex, forces woman to have sex with him. That would be a violation of the First Law of Robotics, of course, but it was beginning to seem that David’s programming was compromised regarding the Three Laws...so it was very possible. 

Charles rolled out of bed and got dressed, distracted by his anxiety. What if he had made the wrong choice in bringing David home? Charles wished he had a way to secure David somehow. 

Then he remembered. It had been a while since he had seen them, but they should still be there...Charles went to his closet and pulled out a metal suitcase from the back. He rummaged inside for a few seconds before he found what he was looking for: a pair of real metal handcuffs. He looked at them for a minute and exhaled hard. Would putting these on David make him any safer? If he was a human, David would be under arrest, considering Raven’s accusations. So handcuffs were appropriate when the situation was viewed that way. 

Charles went downstairs and to the bedroom where he had sent David the night before. He opened the door quietly and saw David sitting upright in a chair, his eyes closed. The chair had been moved from it’s original position and Charles wondered why until realized that the chair was right next to an electrical outlet. Oh, of course. David didn’t appear to be plugged in or connected to the outlet in any way, though. 

Curious, Charles crept closer until he saw it: a gossamer-thin strand extending down to the outlet from David. 

What tech was that? Charles had never seen anything like it. 

He frowned and looked closer. There appeared to actually be two strands, that might have been silvery, but they were so thin that he could hardly see them. Charles reached out a hand to touch one of the strands when David’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed him by the wrist. 

“Don’t. They are not insulated.”

Charles jumped, his heart pounding. “I thought you were offline,” he said as David released his wrist. 

David’s eyes opened. “Most of my systems were shut down, yes. But when a human in my vicinity is in immediate danger, I am programmed to assist them.”

“Danger?” Charles said, frowning. He took a step back. “I didn’t think it would be dangerous to touch your power cord. It’s not like Tony to forget something like insulation.”

“Mr. Stark was not responsible for this aspect of my design,” David said. “The nanobots were courtesy of Mr. Trask.”

Charles blinked. “Those are nanobots?”

“Yes,” David said. “Mr. Trask changed some of my hardware as well as my software. He removed my charging cable and some other things he determined were superfluous if I had multi-purpose nanobots.”

“Multipurpose? You use them for other things?” 

“Many other things,” David said. 

Charles was even more fascinated by the silvery strands now that he knew what they were. “And I can’t touch them?”

“I can redirect a couple thousand if you want to do that,” David said. “There will still be more than enough for their current task.”

“Oh. Well. It’s not dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t offer if there were any danger to you,” David said. “Will you hold out your hand, palm up?”

Feeling a little silly, and more than a little trepidacious, Charles held out his hand as requested. David touched his palm with his fingers and Charles noticed a small pile of sparkling dust gathering in his hand. “Amazing,” Charles breathed. He poked the little dust pile with a finger of his other hand. It felt like a very fine powder. 

After a moment, Charles carefully held his hand out to David again. David touched Charles’ palm again and the dust pile was gone in seconds.

“That is truly incredible,” Charles said, making a note to mention this to Tony. He wondered what other functions the nanobots had besides acting as a router for electricity. “I guess inductive charging wouldn’t be as versatile.”

David cocked his head. “Inductive charging?”

“Yes, that is how I charge...well, nevermind.” Charles remembered what he needed to do. “Ahh, right.” He licked his lips nervously and pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket. 

David looked at the cuffs and then at Charles. “Do you want me to wear those?” His voice changed, subtly. “Or do you want me to put them on you?”

There was definitely an innuendo in his second sentence. Charles could feel his face turning red. “No! This isn’t a sexual overture,” Charles sputtered, “You were accused of a crime, so you should be in handcuffs.”

“I see.” Was there a coldness to David’s voice now? Or was Charles projecting that because he felt guilty? Charles quickly snapped the cuffs onto David before he could overthink it. 

“Do people in jail wear handcuffs?”

“Well, ah, I don’t think they do after they are in jail, actually,” Charles said uncomfortably. 

“I see.” David paused. “There is another flaw in your logic,” he said a moment later. “I was not arrested; I was recovered, because I am property. So I should not be handcuffed; I should be destroyed.” 

Charles sighed, staring at the handcuffs, feeling worse about his decision by the minute. “Do you want to be destroyed?”

“Of course not,” David said. Charles raised his gaze to meet David’s in surprise as David continued. David wasn’t supposed to have wants. “The Third Law of Robotics is that I should protect my own life. But if it is necessary to protect humanity, I can allow myself to be destroyed.”

“Or if any human orders you to,” Charles said. 

David inclined his head in agreement. “Then, too.”

“I don’t want you to be destroyed,” Charles said honestly. “But I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. You could be a rapist.” Charles rubbed his face with his hands. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I need to sort this out as quickly as possible.”

David blinked several times in succession, watching Charles. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “What would convince you of my innocence?”

“Erm. Good question.” Charles sat down on the guest bed, opposite David’s chair, thinking. “Obviously if Raven told me she misremembered, or lied, but she won’t do the first and she wouldn’t have done the second.” Charles chewed on his lip a moment. “You mentioned a powerful telepath—what was that name again?”

“Ms. Frost,” David supplied. 

“Well, if I could speak to Ms. Frost, I could perhaps determine if she influenced Raven, perhaps made her remember differently,” Charles said, feeling a spark of hope in his chest. “Do you know where I can find her?” 

“No,” David said. “But Mr. Trask might. Perhaps you could speak with him.”

Charles didn’t know how he was going to find Trask, but at least he was local at the moment, and Charles rarely had trouble getting information from anyone. That did seem more promising. 

“That’s an excellent idea, David, thank you,” Charles said. He pulled out his mobile and glanced at the time. “I have a meeting that I need to get to now, but I will be back later. I will instruct the housekeeper not to clean this room.” He hesitated, because what he was going to say next made him feel awkward all over again. “Would you stay here, in this room?”

“Is that an order, Charles?” David asked. Neither his face nor his voice were anything but smooth, yet Charles felt that there was something more being conveyed. 

Perhaps it was just that trying to communicate without the added benefit of his telepathy was off-putting. 

“It is,” Charles said, but couldn’t help adding: “but it’s not all day. When I get back, I can show you around the house, if you like.” Charles wanted to retract the words the moment he said them. Why would David care about that? And it could potentially give David information that he could leverage against Charles. 

But David smiled. “I would like that, Charles.”

Charles pulled back in amazement. He would _like_ that? This was definitely different from his response to Charles’ direction about staying in the guest room. He seemed so _real_. It was both exciting and terrifying. 

“Well then,” Charles said, clearing his throat. “I will see you later this afternoon.”

“I will resume charging,” David said, and closed his eyes. Charles looked at him for a moment before slipping out the door.   
**

“True emotions are never going to happen,” Hank said matter-of-factly, with his arms crossed. “I’m not even sure why you would want that.” 

They were eating lunch at Hank’s favorite restaurant, as they tried to do at least once a week so they could exchange notes on their teddy bear shrink project. (They knew they needed to come up with a real name eventually, but Tony’s nickname for the project had stuck.)

“It’s not something I’d want for our Teddy, no,” Charles said evasively. “But my question was hypothetical. You don’t think an artificial intelligence could develop emotions? On its own, perhaps?”

Hank sighed and rubbed his chin. “Hypothetically, I can see that being possible, but I don’t think we are anywhere near that level with AI’s. Of course, I would have a better understanding of where we are as a society with that technology if Stark would let us play with a David—” Hank’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

Charles smiled tightly and stirred his tea. He hadn’t told Hank that he had taken the machine accused of raping his sister home, of course. He hadn’t told anyone. But of course Hank knew about the assault; it had been all over the media. 

“That’s alright, Hank,” Charles said. “I confess that I am also curious about Tony’s claims that the David can understand emotion, but not feel it. _That_ sounds like exactly what we want for our AI teddy bear, right? But...maybe it didn’t work that way in practice. Maybe that had something to do with why he decided to force Raven to have intercourse.” Charles realized he was clutching the spoon he was stirring his tea with very tightly and deliberately relaxed the grip. 

“Yes, that could have been—I mean, that Trask guy could have had something to do with that, like you said, or it could just have been a—I don’t know, a fluke or something, but it can’t be a problem with _all_ Davids. They’ve been on the market for over a year. If androids were going around forcing people to have sex, we would have heard about it.” Hank sounded almost desperate. Hank had been a Starktech fanboy for years; of course he wanted the David to be a success.

Charles was about to reply when Hank’s eyes caught on something over Charles’ shoulder. “Speaking of,” he said, nodding towards what he’d been looking at and averting his eyes. 

Charles actually didn’t need to look, because his telepathy had picked up on it. Trask and his lawyer had just entered the restaurant. 

Well, that was convenient! Charles had been wondering how he was going to find Trask, and here the man had walked into the same restaurant Charles and Hank were dining in. 

Charles seized the opportunity and slipped into Trask’s mind immediately, looking for memories related to David. But there were startlingly few. And the ones that there were seemed two-dimensional, as if they were dreamed, and not real. 

Charles frowned and concentrated harder. He couldn’t find any specifics on the work Trask had done with David, no matter how much he looked. The memories of David were extremely vague. That was odd. Charles had to dig much deeper than he usually did to find anything helpful, and unfortunately, Trask was beginning to feel pain, touching his forehead and visibly wincing. 

Finally Charles could see that there were sometimes other people present when Trask was working on David. Not always, and they seemed oddly blurry, but there were two people: a smiling, brown-haired man of indeterminate age and an attractive blonde woman who wore a lot of white. Trask didn’t like them at all, Charles suddenly realized, but he had worked with them anyway. 

When he found an auditory memory of the words, _“I don’t know, just tell them you found it to be a richer area of research,_ ” spoken in an annoyed woman’s voice, it clicked for Charles. This was Ms. Frost, the telepath, and she had controlled Trask to some extent...and possibly quite a lot. And the two-dimensional memories were planted by her to cover her tracks. 

Trask was now hunched over the table, holding his head with both hands. Charles hastily withdrew from his mind, feeling suddenly awful about causing the man pain, especially when it seemed that Trask may have been the puppet of this Ms Frost all along. 

“Charles, are you alright?” Hank asked with concern. “Is it your legs?”

Charles shook his head no, taking a sip of his tea before he spoke. He didn’t want to tell Hank that he had been illegally reading someone else’s mind, especially not within the potential earshot of that person. “I’m sorry, Hank, it’s just been a rather difficult couple of days. I should have rescheduled this lunch.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hank said sincerely. “Our project doesn’t have a deadline, so take as much time as you need. Is—Is Raven okay? I mean, sorry, that was stupid, of course she’s not okay, but—do you think she would like me to visit her?”

“I don’t know,” Charles said honestly. “She doesn’t let me in her head at all, and as you know, she is hard to predict.”

Hank nodded, his forehead creased. “Well, I suppose I could call her.”

Charles doubted that Raven would be answering her phone for a while, but he gave Hank a wan smile. 

“I think I’ll be going then,” Charles said, suddenly realizing what this meant regarding David. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Trask had been manipulated by the telepathic Ms. Frost; Frost had probably manipulated Raven to believe that she had been raped, too. 

Charles still had no idea what her motivation would have been for doing that, but considering that he also had no idea what would motivate an android to rape someone, it seemed like a wash. 

Charles found himself whistling on his drive home. He had evidence now. Nothing he could show to anyone, but he could prove it another way—perhaps by finding this Ms. Frost. He made a mental note to talk to Hank about the potential telepathic amplifier device that Hank had been wanting to start researching. 

Charles entered his home and went directly to David’s room. David was sitting on the chair, upright, but with his eyes closed. His hands were still cuffed in front of him. 

“Oh, right,” Charles muttered to himself. He dug in his pocket for the key and unlocked the handcuffs as David opened his eyes. 

David looked down at his freed hands. “Hello, Charles,” he said. “Did you find Ms Frost?”

“Hello, David,” Charles responded with a smile. He felt unaccountably—bubbly. “No, but I did, erm, acquire some information that corroborates what you have told me.”

“Am I free to go, then?” David asked, looking up at Charles. 

“Well,” Charles cleared his throat. “Unfortunately I think the rest of the world, including Raven, still believes that you assaulted her. So I have some more work to do before you can be, well, released, I suppose.”

“I see,” David said. “And how long do you expect that work to take?”

Charles shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I don’t know. There are several—do you—I mean, do you have somewhere to be?” He had started the second sentence as a joke, but it occurred to him as he started to voice it that David might still be following someone else’s commands. 

“I think I am in the best place I could be right now,” David said, and Charles felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. “I had just been hoping…” he trailed off and smiled, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Charles’ eyes widened to see such an incredibly human behavior. “Of—of course it matters!” he said. “What are you hoping?”

“I’d like to see...trees,” David said softly. His eyes unfocused. “I’ve read much about them and I think I saw some when you drove me here, but I’ve never been close to one.”

“Trees?” Charles repeated blankly. 

“But what you explained makes sense,” David continued blithely, refocusing his eyes on Charles’ face. “I am compelled to protect, among other things, my own continued existence, and I understand that other people seeing me could be a hindrance to that.”

“No, no,” Charles said, shaking his head in some disbelief and half-laughing. “We’ve got trees here, on my land. There’s no reason you couldn’t take a walk and see them.”

“You have instructed me—” David began, but Charles interrupted him by grasping his hand and pulling him to his feet.

“Belay that instruction!” Charles said, with a grin. “Let’s go for a walk.”

**

It was a brisk fall afternoon, and the trees were in full color. The look of wonder on David’s face as he touched a tree trunk for the first time reminded Charles of what Raven’s face had looked like the first time she had gone to Disneyland. 

Charles imagined his own face had a similar expression because he couldn’t believe how human David seemed. Who had programmed ‘wonder’ into him? Or ‘awe’? 

Charles doubted very much that it was Trask, and he knew it wasn’t Tony.

“This is very...pleasing,” David said, as he slowly walked around the tree, his fingertips dragging along its bark. “This is beautiful.” 

“I’m...glad you like it,” Charles said, bemused. 

“Who created this tree?” David asked, craning his head up to look at the branches and canopy of leaves above their heads. 

Charles smiled. He watched a cricket land on a pinecone, his hands in is pockets. “Well, my great-grandfather I think planted the seed, if that’s what you mean.”

“Who created the seed?” David asked. He was looking at Charles now, his facial expression blandly pleasant, his gaze unwavering. 

Charles chuckled. “It—well, it evolved, I suppose. No individual created it. Is that—I mean—you don’t already have that information?”

“I know trees grow from seeds,” David answered. “And I know humans are created when a sperm penetrates an ovum. But I don’t understand why these processes happen. Or how they started.” David started walking towards the pine from which the pine cone had rolled, up a gentle slope from where they were. Charles walked beside him.

Charles exhaled as he considered what to say in response. “I think that’s a question with no easy answer, David. I think that’s part of why there is religion—to help explain things like that. Why are we here, who created us...these are the questions that have plagued mankind for centuries.”

“I know why I’m here,” David responded easily. A slight crease crossed his forehead. “Do you know the purpose of your own existence?”

“I…” Charles laughed a bit as he realized both the absurdity and the profundity of the conversation they were having. “I must confess, I’m not sure that I do. Although sometimes...sometimes I think I’m on the right track.” He gazed at the sky, lost for a moment in his own thoughts. 

David had reached the pine tree and was sliding some pine needles attached to the tree through his fingers, staring at them in utter fascination. 

“I had a rather...life-changing experience a few years ago,” Charles said, realizing how long it had been since he had thought about that day. “Well, about eight years ago, actually. My step—erm, rather, that was when I lost the ability to walk.” Charles stopped himself from going into the details. They weren’t relevant. 

David looked the legs Charles was walking on and blinked, then looked back at Charles’s face. Charles had to laugh, even though David had not even spoken yet. “I have cybernetic implants,” he explained. “Tony Stark developed them. They give me the ability to walk, and even some sensation. I’m paralyzed from the waist down, without them. But they have...limitations.” 

“What limitations?” David asked. He had picked up a pinecone and was examining it closely. 

Charles shivered as the breeze picked up. They were in the shade, after all. “Well, like you, I have batteries that I need to charge periodically, and occasionally static builds up and needs to be released. I do that here.” Charles turned his back and lifted his shirt, showing to David the small nub that was his static discharge button.

“What happens if you do not discharge the static?” David asked. 

“Sometimes I pass out, as you saw me do yesterday,” Charles answered. David looked up from the pinecone, concern etched on his face. 

“You could fall, and hurt yourself,” David said. “Is there no other solution?”

Charles made a face. “There have been advancements, and so the kind of cybernetics that Tony now sells to the public doesn’t have the static discharge problem. I was a kind of guinea pig, that way. But that would mean another surgery, and I’ve had so many already...I don’t want to do that again. At least not right now. Maybe I will at some point.”

David nodded. He had not taken his eyes away from Charles the whole time Charles had been speaking. “I will be alert to the possibility of you passing out and prevent it if possible.”

“Oh, you don’t…” Charles started to say, and trailed off. ‘You don’t have to do that’ was on the tip of his tongue, but David literally _did_ have to do that. It was his programming. 

Another breeze picked up and Charles shivered again, harder than last time. 

David was immediately at his side, his hand cradling Charles’ elbow. “Are you going to pass out? Do you require assistance?”

“No,” Charles said, laughing. “I just shivered because I was cold. Humans do that sometimes.”

“I see,” David said. He paused before continuing. “Is there anything I can do to make you warmer?”

“Well, we could continue this walk another time,” Charles said, smiling. “I could give you the house tour I promised. It’s climate-controlled in there.”

“That is a very satisfactory solution,” David said, and Charles couldn’t help but smile. Was it odd to find an android adorable?


	5. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter in end notes

“Good morning, Charles.”

Charles blearily struggled to open his eyes. He managed to get one open in the bright room and squinted at the voice. “Muh?” he said.

“I have prepared breakfast for you,” the voice continued and Charles was suddenly completely awake as his brain caught up to the situation. 

“David, what—why are you—why did you make me breakfast, and why did you make it at—” Charles grabbed the mobile phone on the night stand next to his bed and glanced at the time, blinking rapidly to try and focus his eyes. “—7:45am?”

“Your alarm has been sounding for three-quarters of an hour,” David said in his maddeningly calm voice. “I apologize if the time is inconvenient.”

“Well, I’m awake now,” Charles muttered, sitting upright. His alarm was set to go off at seven because that seemed like a proper time to wake up, but he rarely actually got out of bed before 9am. “But you didn’t answer my first question.”

David was holding a tray laden with food and for a moment he looked like a lost child. “I am designed to anticipate people’s needs,” he said after a moment. “Apparently I did not calculate this situation appropriately. Social interactions are...nuanced.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Yes, I suppose they are. But you don’t have to serve me; you don’t have to work. I thought I told you that. Did I?” Charles frowned because he couldn’t remember if he had actually said that to David. 

David inclined his head slightly. “I apologize. I will discard this, and--”

Charles held his hand up. “No, don’t do that, It’s alright. I’ll eat it. It smells good.” It really did. He definitely smelled coffee, and he thought perhaps nutmeg?

David smiled slightly and put the tray down in front of Charles. There was the coffee Charles had smelled, but there was also French toast and fruit, with whipped cream and plenty of butter and syrup on the side. Charles’ mouth began to water the moment he set eyes on it.

“French toast!” Charles exclaimed. He took a bite. “This is my favorite,” he explained, chewing. 

“Yes, I know,” David said. “It was on your Instagram.”

Charles paused mid-bite. “You’ve been looking at my instagram?” The evening before, after Charles had given David a tour of his home, David had asked for the wifi password. Charles had shared it as he would have with any guest. 

“Is that inappropriate?” David asked, his smooth brow crinkling ever so slightly. “The pictures I saw were publicly viewable.”

“Well, okay, but it’s still a little…” Charles tried to think of a nicer way to say it than the word that first popped into his head, taking another bite of his French toast, but nothing came to him. “...creepy,” he said reluctantly.

David frowned slightly, looking distressed. “I have heard this same criticism before. I am sorry that I do not comprehend social boundaries. I do not want to be creepy.”

Charles continued eating, not sure what to say. The food was really incredibly good, better than Charles had been served at any restaurant. He tried to remember if he had called David creepy before. “Who called you creepy?” he finally asked, curiously.

David hesitated, longer than an android should. “Raven did.”

Charles blinked and swallowed the bite in his mouth as context rushed into his mind. Raven, his sister, the woman who had accused David of raping her. Charles suddenly felt vulnerable, sitting up in his bed wearing only a t-shirt and boxer briefs. 

He cleared his throat. “Boundaries. Yes. Well, since you seem to need some guidance there: David, please do not come into my room without knocking first, and please don’t prepare any more meals for me. Or clean anything. And don’t get too comfortable. I am going to try to save your life, but this will not be your permanent home.”

David’s face fell millimeter by millimeter as Charles spoke to him. He dropped his gaze to the bed. “Yes, Charles.”

Charles inhaled and tried to harden his heart. He knew he was too empathic; even if David did somehow have feelings, what Charles was saying was absolutely reasonable and he SHOULD NOT feel guilty about it. “Now, please leave, so that I can—”

“What would you have me do?” David interrupted. 

Charles stared at him for a moment. “What would I—what? Nothing. I don’t need you to do anything.”

“Yesterday you spoke to me of having a purpose,” David said. “And I learned that I am fortunate to know what my purpose is, and yet you will not allow me to fulfill it.”

“Bringing me breakfast is your purpose?” Charles asked. He felt out of his depth. 

“Serving humans is my purpose,” David said. 

“Oh.” Of course. That’s what he was made for. But Charles didn’t want him to act like a servant...but why didn’t he want that? 

“I am uncomfortable with you serving me,” Charles said slowly. “I am not sure why. Perhaps because you are too human; I would never ask or expect a guest to serve me.”

“Am I your guest, then?”

Charles exhaled. “No, I guess not.”

David cocked his head at Charles. “I could act less ‘human’, but I don’t think that would benefit me.”

Charles looked up at him and met David’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I believe it was the appearance of humanity that made you decide to save my life.” David sat down in the chair at the end of Charles’ bed, uninvited. 

Charles felt a chill. “So that was deliberate?”

David looked down again. “I didn’t want to die. I still don’t. I don’t know if I am simulating that desire, if it is programmed, or if it has developed on its own.”

“The third law,” Charles whispered. He could not take his eyes off David.

“Yes,” David agreed, looking up. “I am programmed to preserve myself. But I am programmed to feel fear at the thought of termination? Have you ever heard of this?”

Charles shook his head. His eyes tracked the perfect profile of the android. Not a blemish. He was smooth and perfect. 

And he was crying. Charles stared in amazement at the tear that slid out of David’s eye. 

“Are you afraid right now?” Charles asked gently. 

David touched the tear on his face and pulled his hand into his field of view, looking at his wet fingertip in surprise. “I don’t know. There is so much I don’t understand.”

Charles felt his heart swell in sympathy for this poor machine. Of course sudden sentience must be confusing and frightening. He wondered if David would be comforted by touch; if a hug would soothe him the way it would a human. 

Charles took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he spoke again. “I want to retract some of what I said before. If you want to, you can—help around the house. But please ask me before you do anything. And I meant what I said about coming into my room without knocking. That is a boundary violation.”

David had already perked up. “Thank you, Charles. This feels...like relief. Happiness.”

Charles smiled and shook his head slightly in disbelief. “If someone had told me a week ago, that I would have an android for a houseguest, I would not have believed them.”

“But you haven’t,” David said, with his signature Mona Lisa smile. “I’m not a guest. I think I am still your prisoner.”

Charles cleared his throat. “Can we save the semantics discussion for another time, please? I need to shower, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Shall I take the tray?” David asked, standing. Charles had eaten every bit of food David had brought. 

“Yes, thank you. It was delicious,” he added, wondering if David cared if he was complimented or not. But the smile on David’s face as he left Charles’ room seemed slightly bigger than usual. 

**

There was a growing unease in Charles’ psyche. He decided to drop in to visit Tony that day because even though David was unfailingly polite and helpful, Charles couldn’t completely forget why he was in Charles’ house, and he didn’t want to forget. But for some reason it was hard to think clearly around David. He was so fascinating to Charles, even considering the circumstances that had brought them together. And even though Charles knew intellectually that David shouldn’t and couldn’t stay with him indefinitely, some other part of him just wanted to observe and converse with David all day. 

But more important than any of that, Charles needed to be around other actual people and feel their minds. Tony was more open with Charles than anyone else Charles knew, so he was great company when Charles felt this way. 

“Yo, Xavier, stay over there unless you want to put on a welding mask,” Tony yelled as Charles entered the loud workshop. Tony was holding some kind of device that was making a lot of what looked like steam and applying it to something on a table in front of him. Charles had no idea what he was working on; Tony’s own thoughts were so deeply involved with the details of his task that Charles couldn’t grasp the context. He was covered with either condensation or sweat, and was wearing a black tank top, which the arc reactor in his chest glowed through. Even though Charles knew that Tony was 100% straight, he also knew Tony didn’t mind being admired so Charles didn’t refrain from looking his fill. 

_I’ll stay over here,_ Charles projected to Tony, along with a sense of appreciation for the view. Amusement flickered in Tony’s mind but he was too focused on his task (and too unsurprised to be found attractive) to be distracted. 

Finally Tony turned the loud, steam-making thing off. 

“Shouldn’t you be wearing a welding mask, if you wanted me to to wear one?” Charles asked, smiling. 

“Nah, that’s about liability,” Tony responded as he wiped on his face with a towel. “Hey, you want lunch? I’ll have Dum-dum bring us something.”

“Well, I had a...large breakfast,” Charles said evasively. “But I would love a drink.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at Charles. “Drinking mid-day? Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Tony whistled and after hurling several insults at his robot lab assistant, Tony and Charles both had tumblers of scotch in hand. 

“If your machines are so incompetent, why don’t you replace them with Davids?” Charles asked idly, watching the robot career away and just barely avoid crashing into a counter. 

“Ah, well, I need someone I can lay into,” Tony said with a smirk and a shrug. “Although, to be honest, I had been thinking of adding a David to my lab staff, until—” Tony gestured in Charles’ direction instead of finishing his sentence, taking a sip of his drink and quickly looking away.

“So you think there’s a flaw in his core programming?” Charles asked casually, although his heart was starting to beat faster. He wasn’t sure how Tony might react to the news that David had gone home with Charles. 

“His? Oh, the Davids? No, I really don’t, but...well, I don’t know. I just got a bad feeling about them now, you know? I kinda wish I could put a different face on the Walter now, but production is pretty far along.” Tony frowned into the distance, pensively. 

“You say David understands human emotion, but he doesn’t feel it,” Charles said carefully. “You are certain of that?”

Tony gave Charles a long look. He shook his head in incredulity. “Machines don’t have feelings, Charles. They can be taught to emulate them; they can be taught to read human expressions and respond appropriately, but they don’t experience real emotion, not the way we understand it.” Tony frowned at Charles. “Did that David say something that freaked you out?”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He was torn about whether or not to admit to Tony that he had saved David’s life. Finally he dropped his eyes. “Maybe a little,” he mumbled. 

“Well, that fucker Trask must have programmed some weird shit into him,” Tony concluded. “I’ve decided I’m not going to go open-source with the Walters. There’s always some asshole who ruins it for everyone.”

“You know, I ran into Trask the other day,” Charles said, grateful to latch onto a change of subject. “In fact, I now know the names of his collaborators. Ms. Frost and Mr. Shaw.”

“Wow, really?” Tony said, leaning forward. “You should tell the cops.”

“Well,” Charles began and then made a pained face. 

Tony frowned at Charles for a moment and then closed his eyes in understanding. “Ah. You read his mind. So the information would be inadmissable.”

“Yes, but I was thinking, perhaps you could search your sales records for those names and find a plausible way to connect them to Trask, if you find them?” Charles said quickly, using his most beseeching expression. 

Tony frowned at Charles for a good ten seconds before he spoke again. “Couple things, Chuck: first, are you looking to frame someone here? I mean the machine that did it was destroyed, right? Isn’t that enough?”

“No, it’s not,” Charles said loudly. He forced himself to calm down and speak at a more reasonable volume. “Tony, I’m not even sure that she was raped, but if she wasn’t, then someone fucked with her head and I can’t allow that.”

Charles didn’t realize how clenched his fists were until he saw Tony eyeing them. 

Tony sipped his drink and looked up at the building’s ceiling, clearly thinking. Charles finished his drink and poured himself a healthy second glass before Tony spoke again. 

“Okay. I will search my records, see if I can connect anyone with those names to Trask. But you gotta do me a favor.”

“Absolutely,” Charles said in relief.

“I’m attending a seminar luncheon with some of the smartest brains out there in tech tomorrow, and I’d like you to come.”

Charles made an unhappy noise, but Tony just rolled his eyes. “I know you better than that, Chuck-o. You like people. You need people. Your brain needs more stimulation than just Teddy Ruxpin you’ve been working on.”

Charles snorted. “Yes, yes, you know me well. Well then—” Charles started to stand and immediately sat down again when the room tilted. “Oh. Uh-oh.”

Tony frowned at Charles for a split second before clarity struck and he realized the problem. “You can’t drive right now,” Tony said matter-of-factly. “Okay. Take my car. I’ll get yours back to you later.” Tony’s car was completely automated, of course, so Charles being too drunk to drive was a non-issue. 

Charles couldn’t think of a better solution; actually, he couldn’t think of any other solution. 

“Actually, I’ll have it stay there and it can drive you back here tomorrow—you can get your car then,” Tony said, sounding very pleased with himself. 

“Fine.” Charles didn’t really follow. He was in a good mood, and looking forward to going home. 

**

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Charles yelled as he came in the front door, then laughed at his own joke. His shoes were suddenly intolerable so he toed them off and then grasped the railing of the foyer staircase as he almost fell down. “Whoops,” he said, swallowing a chuckle. 

“Charles? Are you alright?”

Charles whirled to face the voice and then waited a moment for the world to catch up with his new orientation. “David,” he said, trying to keep the smile off his face. “I was hoping to see you.” 

David stood ramrod straight, as always, but he cocked his head quizzically at Charles’s words. 

“I mean, I knew I would see you here,” Charles amended. He felt like he was forgetting something but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what that was. 

“You appear to be intoxicated,” David said calmly. “It is fortunate that you were able to successfully operate your vehicle.”

“Tony sent me in his car,” Charles said absentmindedly. He took a step towards the living room and his leg tried to buckle and suddenly Charles’ mood was turned inside out. 

He hated when his legs didn’t work. He had a sudden flashback of memory, of being stuck in bed right after the accident, crying in rage after the doctor told him that he would probably never walk again. 

Then David’s hand was on his shoulder, stabilizing him. “Charles? You are paler than usual. Are you in pain?”

Charles swallowed and shook his head, just barely managing to keep the tears at bay. “No, no,” he said, but he put his hand over David’s hand on his shoulder and just breathed for a moment. David’s hand felt solid and real. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” David asked after a few seconds, in a low voice. There seemed to be a tinge of concern in the android’s tone, but Charles reflected that it could also be that he was hearing what he wanted to hear. He wanted David to be concerned about him, because...because... 

Charles mind refused to complete the thought, but David was still looking at him with a calm but serious expression. “I had a—bad memory,” he said haltingly. “Just for a moment. It’s...hard to explain.”

“Nevertheless, I would like if you could try to explain.”

Charles blinked at David in amazement. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or not. “I need to sit down.” He took his hand off of David’s hand then and David removed his hand from Charles’ shoulder. Charles’ shoulder felt cooler.

Charles made it to the couch with no more walking mishaps and flopped onto his couch length-wise with a sigh. He looked at his be-socked feet and sighed again. “I want to take my socks off but they are all the way over there,” he complained, an attempt at levity. 

He was not expecting David to kneel by his feet and remove his socks. 

“David!” Charles was scandalized but it also felt so good to have his toes free. 

“Yes, Charles?” The android looked at him, with a mildly curious expression on his face. He was still at the foot of the couch, by Charles’ feet. He had balled the socks and put them down on the floor nearby. 

Charles felt himself getting red. Taking off someone’s socks seemed to be a very intimate thing, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t David be aware of that?

“Would you like some water?” David asked. “I can also fetch an aspirin, if you like.”

As much as Charles didn’t want David to be or act like a servant, it was nearly impossible to refuse when that was exactly what Charles wanted. “Yes, both, please, David.”

At least he hadn’t offered a foot rub, Charles thought. He didn’t know if he would have been able to turn that down. 

Charles was starting to give in to sleep when David returned with a glass of water and an aspirin. He struggled to sit up and David put a hand behind his back to help him. 

It felt so intimate. Charles tried not to think of it that way. David was just an android, doing what he was supposed to do. 

Charles took the aspirin and chased it with water. Then he sighed and lay his head down again. He knew he should get to his bed for sleep, but the couch was so nice to lie on, and it was here…

“You were going to explain,” David said. 

Charles blinked his eyes open and tried to focus on David’s face. David was sitting in front of the sofa, cross-legged, facing Charles, looking for all the world like a child waiting for storytime. His expression was expectant. 

“I was going to explain…” Charles tried to remember what that was about, and was jolted with an ugly feeling when he remembered. “Oh yes. My bad memory.”

David said nothing; he simply looked at Charles expectantly.

“I know you didn’t have any, David, but parents are supposed to take care of you,” he sighed after a moment. “They aren’t supposed to push you down the stairs.”

When there was no response, Charles craned his neck to see David’s face. He didn’t know what to expect from David in terms of response. 

David’s face was curiously blank. “Did that happen to you?” he asked softly, in a voice barely higher than a whisper. 

“Well, it was my step-father, but yes,” Charles said, half-wishing he could take the words back. “I suffered a spinal cord injury and concussion. I passed out for half a day and when I woke up, my mother and stepfather were arguing about whether or not I needed to go to the hospital. That’s when I realized that I couldn’t walk.” 

“You should have gone to the hospital immediately,” David said. 

“Yes,” Charles agreed. He started to explain how his mother and Kurt had fought; how Charles had seen Kurt punch and choke his mother, slamming her head against the wall, insisting loudly that Charles would not being going to the hospital. He finally relented when Charles didn’t seem to remember how he had hurt himself. 

“But by the time I got to the hospital—too much time had passed. I was paralyzed from the hips down.”

David spoke softly. “How long was it before you were able to walk again?”

“Two years,” Charles said, staring straight up at the ceiling. “If it wasn’t for Tony Stark, I might still be wheelchair-bound. I owe him a debt I can never repay.”

“Do you and Tony have a sexual relationship?”

Charles jerked in surprise. “What? No! Not Tony. He’s just a good friend, and anyway he’s straight.”

“He is straight? In what context?” Charles wasn’t looking at David’s face, but his tone was even and mildly quizzical.

“He, uh,” Charles cleared his throat. “He doesn’t have sex with men.” He felt his face heating again.

There was a pause while David assimilated this information. “I see. Are you—straight?”

Charles licked his lips subconsciously. “Um, no, I’m—not.” He squirmed under David’s gaze until the android abruptly dropped his eyes. 

“This topic appears to be making you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Charles didn’t reply for a long time. He stared at David, feeling more free than usual to look his fill, since for once David wasn’t looking at him. “I almost feel like you are a friend,” he said slowly. “And I shouldn’t feel that way.”

David slowly lifted his head and looked at Charles somberly. “But I would like to be your friend. I’ve never had a friend.”

Suddenly Charles arched his back as a familiar feeling hit the base of his spine. “Ah, dammit, need to discharge,” he mumbled, turning over to face the back of the couch and reaching his arm around. He knew it wasn’t lethal, but the experience was very unpleasant. Unfortunately he was lying on the arm with which he was trying to reach his back and his arm was mostly just flailing. He pulled at his shirt ineffectively as the static electricity started to build up.

A cool hand slid up under his shirt and pressed on the nub that Charles had shown David yesterday. Charles sighed with relief as he felt the electricity dissipate. He just lay there for a moment, enjoying the relief, enjoying how David’s hand caressed his back…

“You can’t,” he mumbled into his pillow. But it was indecipherable, and he knew it was. When David softly asked, “What did you say, Charles?” Charles didn’t reply. 

David’s caressing was surely just intended to be soothing, but Charles felt himself getting erect. He shifted to try and make the hard cock pressing into the crunch cushion below him more comfortable, trying to breathe normally. 

“Charles, are you aroused?” 

Charles closed his eyes and tried to think of the right thing to do. Fuck, yes, he was aroused, and he knew that David would do whatever Charles told him to, and happily. But Charles shouldn’t. There were reasons. Reasons he couldn’t recall at that moment, but they were important, he was sure of it. 

Charles turned over. David’s hand stayed on him, sliding around to the front and resting on Charles’ torso. His eyes flickered briefly to Charles’ pants, where Charles’ arousal was obvious. 

“Is there anything I can do for you, Charles?” David asked in a low voice. His eyes slowly traveled up Charles’ body from his crotch to his eyes. 

Charles stared at David, his breathing ragged. This was wrong. He licked his lips. David was a machine. 

But he didn’t look like a machine. He looked like an incredibly handsome man. In fact, the way that the pressure of his hand on Charles’ torso had changed slightly, signified to Charles that he was wanted. That David _wanted_ him. But how could he want? How much like a man was he?

“You have a cock,” Charles said. He licked his lips and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I see it?”

The barest smile graced David’s lips. “Of course, Charles.” David rose up on both knees and unzipped his bodysuit until a pale pink cock slipped out. It looked very human, and very normal.

“It’s not hard,” Charles observed, feeling disappointed.

“It can be,” David replied. Charles’ eyes grew wide as David’s cock swelled at an inhuman rate. It was like someone had pressed fast forward on a porn video. It was fully erect within seconds. 

It was beautiful, the most perfect penis Charles had ever seen. _Of course it is, it was created in a lab,_ Charles told himself. He was just reaching for it when it occurred to him to wonder what Raven had thought of his penis when she’d seen it. 

Revulsion and guilt flooded Charles like a wave. He turned his head and shut his eyes, snapping his hand back. “No,” he whispered. Frustratingly, he still couldn’t be sure if David had raped Raven or not...but he couldn’t take the chance. 

Charles sat up and wrapped his arms around himself. He opened his eyes briefly to see David’s still huge and erect cock far too close to him. He looked to the side. “Please leave,” he said quietly. 

“Charles, did I—”

“Don’t!” Charles snapped. “Don’t talk, don’t ask, don’t try to explain. Just go to your room.” Guilt at speaking to David this way gnawed in Charles’ stomach but until he knew…

No. He had to assume he would never know, and therefore he could not lose control of himself around David. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Charles saw David quietly rise and leave the room. Charles sighed heavily and felt tears prickling under his eyelids. He didn’t have to be a psychologist to understand that he was lonely, and David seemed so kind. He seemed like he really cared about Charles. Rejecting him was hard. 

And unlike with most people, Charles absolutely could not tell if David really did feel what he seemed to. Sometimes Charles thought the emotion was real, but other times, like when he talked about it with Hank or with Tony, he knew it couldn’t be. 

Charles lay back on the couch and put his arm across his face. He wasn’t planning on staying there the night; there was a very good reason he only ever slept in his own bed. But the alcohol coursing through his system didn’t seem to know that, and so even though it was still hours before he usually fell asleep, within ten minutes after David had left the room, Charles was fast asleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic description of past domestic abuse.


End file.
